by Hugh Canham
At breakfast the following morning Hector was dressed in green plus-fours and a yellow cardigan, with socks to match.
He handed Lucasta a piece of paper, which she read with amazement. Across the top was written ‘THE SEARCH’, then:
1.Kitchen – me
2.Bar and cellars – me
3.Land Rovers – you
4.Other bedrooms and landlord’s flat – you
5.Gardens, landing stage, outbuildings – both
6.Boathouses – both
‘This is not necessarily the order we shall do them in,’ he whispered. There was no need to whisper as the restaurant area was otherwise empty. ‘Do you have any questions?’
‘How do we do all this without arousing suspicion?’ Lucasta asked.
‘Ah. Thought of that! We pretend that you lost a brooch last night and we are searching around for it.’
‘What – in the other bedrooms and the landlord’s flat?’
‘No, no. I’ll tell you my plan for those areas in a moment, but this ruse will cover the gardens, the riverside, etcetera.’ He waved his hand grandly. ‘You know how it is, if you’ve lost anything you often can’t remember where you walked the previous day.’
‘Well, I didn’t walk around the gardens or the river bank when we arrived as it was getting dark!’
‘Never mind, never mind,’ responded Hector, waving his hands impatiently. ‘And with regard to the boathouses, we shall hire a rowing boat and go fishing. I’ve already spoken to Grimes about it.’
‘And what about the other bedrooms and the landlord’s flat?’
‘Well, I think the bedroom the Germans occupy could be a problem, but while I was chatting to Grimes last night about hiring the boat, he let on that he admires you greatly – says you have a wonderful figure and all that. Apparently his wife has left him; funny, he seems a decent enough chap to me! But there we are – I’m sure he’ll be only too pleased to show you anywhere you please, if you just ask him nicely. He was curious to know who you were. I just said you were one of my employees.’
Lucasta could hardly believe what he was doing when, as the waitress came, he whispered again, ‘This is where I get a look at the kitchens,’ and proceeded to tell the waitress that he wanted two eggs with his bacon fried in a particular way and he would come and show the cook how to do them. At which he strode off to the kitchen, winking at Lucasta as he went.
The rest of the morning continued in much the same pantomime-like way. Lucasta felt a complete idiot pretending to be looking for a non-existent lost brooch in the flower beds. How could a three-and-a-half-foot statue be hidden in a flower bed?
‘It could be in the middle of a shrub, or even decorating the flower bed,’ said Hector. ‘You know, we must look everywhere!’
Neither did Lucasta enjoy rowing up the river while Hector pretended to fish with the rod he’d brought with him, and even less the visit to the other bedrooms and to Mr Grimes’ flat.
She met Hector in the bar at lunchtime. He had just been shown round the cellars by the barman.
‘Come on, I know it’s a bit chilly, but let’s take our drinks outside,’ he muttered. ‘I presume you have drawn a blank like me, otherwise you would be smiling.’
Lucasta shrugged her shoulders. ‘Well, I had a pretty good look round everywhere. Grimes was quite happy to show me anything provided I put up with his straying hands as we went round. When we got to his own flat, though, I thought I was going to have to fend off a rape, but the lecher contented himself with stroking my jumper and saying, “You’ve got a wonderful figure!” Goodness, I think I should get a percentage of the reward, in the highly unlikely event of our finding this blessed statue!’
‘Good God, Lucasta – I’m awfully sorry!’
‘Tell me,’ she said, ‘is finding the statue very important for you?’
‘Very.’
‘Why?’
‘Well, first there’s the reward, which is substantial. Secondly, I’m very worried about my father’s old clients going somewhere else now that I’ve taken over the practice. It’s vital that I keep the Duke and Duchess as clients – they have three large trust funds and two charities, all set up in England. Their fees pay all the overheads of the practice and provide a small income as well. I suppose without that work there would be nothing really substantial left!’
And at this point Lucasta’s better nature prevailed. She felt sorry for Hector as he stood there looking rather pathetic in his green plus-fours and yellow socks.
‘Very well. I’ll try to get a look at the Germans’ room, even if it is only a peep. I’ll pretend I’ve come to measure for new curtains. They may not fall for it, but I do have a tape measure with me.’
She had brought it with her to measure the boot of the Rolls, to see if the statue would go in. (It would, just – diagonally – in the unlikely event of their finding it.)
Hector said that was a jolly good idea, and very brave of her, and he would be lurking in the corridor in case there was any trouble.
The curtain plan was a total failure. When Lucasta knocked on the Germans’ door, she was confronted by a very large blond man in pyjamas, who had a very good grasp of English. He informed her that he did not want anyone near as he had the flu, and that the curtains were fine as they were. Then he slammed the door in her face.
After that, they both knew they were running out of time. Lucasta didn’t quite know why, but she was becoming emotionally involved in it all against her will.
They came to the conclusion that the Germans must have disposed of the statue on the way down from Scotland, presumably to a colleague who would take it to the continent.
What more could they do? Nothing, it seemed – but Hector insisted on staying another night, ‘just in case something turns up’.
‘What other recourse do we have?’ he asked.
‘We could pray?’ Lucasta said jokingly.
When she later met Hector in the bar for a drink before dinner, she realised that he had had several already – his face was red and he was muttering incoherently to himself. The dinner was even worse than the previous night’s, although she didn’t think Hector noticed as he drank almost all of the bottle of wine he ordered. After they had eaten, he asked if Lucasta would please wait up while he had a cigar with his coffee. In the bar there was a very noisy darts match being played, so they retired as far away from it as possible and sat on two small seats in a corner. Hector then announced that he needed a cognac with his coffee. She noticed that it was a very large one when he brought it back to where they were sitting.
He rambled on rather inconsequentially about the country’s transport problems for some time, and Lucasta began to want badly to go to sleep. Then he said suddenly, ‘Must go to the loo,’ and lurched towards a nearby door which she remembered led onto a rather smelly yard where there was a gents’ lavatory and where all the empty crates and barrels were stacked. She had only looked round that area very cursorily during their search because she couldn’t bear the smell, but she had got Hector to inspect the loo later.
When Hector reached the door leading out to the yard he almost fell through it, he was so unsteady on his feet, and Lucasta felt she ought to follow him to see if he was all right. Once outside, she was just in time to see him trip again and fall sideways into the stack of empty metal beer barrels against the wall. There was the most awful crash as the barrels fell everywhere. She ran over to see if Hector was hurt, but by the time she reached him he was sitting up and looking at the wall against which the barrels had been stacked, transfixed.
‘Look, look!’ was all he said, pointing.
They had found the statue.
The first thought that flashed through Lucasta’s mind was that she had been very careless in her search. She should, of course, have investigated the empties. Oh dear!
‘We’ve got to get it into the boot of the Rolls a.s.a.p.,’ said Hector, rising unsteadily to his feet. ‘Go and get it and back it round here pronto.
’
‘But . . . but Hector, I’ve never driven a Rolls!’
‘Just get on with it, girl,’ he said, handing her the keys.
Given her lack of experience, she was surprised she didn’t dent the Rolls or knock down a wall. However, she eventually made it round to where Hector was sitting on two upended barrels and by now seething, as he tried to hide the statue with his body. Amazingly, nobody had come out of the pub to see what the noise was all about. It must have been drowned by the din of the darts match.
‘Get the boot open,’ he said. ‘We must somehow lift it in.’
Lucasta took off her jacket and tried to lift the statue. She could only move it about an inch.
Luckily, three youths, no doubt members of one of the darts teams, were leaving the gents’. But they looked almost as unsteady as Hector. How, Lucasta thought, do darts players throw their darts so accurately when they have drunk so much beer?
‘Would you kindly give this young lady and myself a hand with this thing into the boot of my car?’ said Hector.
The youths, without showing any surprise or asking any questions, but with much grunting and swearing, got it into the boot. They were quite unconcerned about the removal of the statue or why it was there, and almost as unconcerned at the large tip Hector handed them.
‘Drive off fast,’ Hector ordered Lucasta, getting into the passenger seat.
As Lucasta drove off, she noticed in the driving mirror that the youths had started to play some sort of football game with one of the empty beer barrels.
‘Can’t we collect our clothes?’ she asked as they rejoined the car park.
‘Too dangerous! Just drive straight to Scotland.’
‘But which way do I go?’ she asked in a panic.
‘You see that compass on top of the dashboard? Keep it heading north until you come to the coast, then turn left. You should eventually come to the A1. By that time I shall have come round, but I need a doze now.’
And with that he dropped off to sleep. He had apparently forgotten that he wanted to go to the loo.
Lucasta had not gone very far when she realised she was being followed. As she wasn’t sure which way she was to go, she began turning off down lanes that she thought would lead northwards, but whenever she turned, the headlights of the car behind followed.
She came to a town called North Walsham and drove straight into the centre of it. By the street lights she could see that the following car was a Land Rover. There were fortunately still a few people around, so she stopped. The Land Rover drove past and stopped some thirty yards ahead. It was, she noticed as it passed them, Grimes behind the wheel!
‘Why have we stopped?’ asked Hector sleepily.
‘Because we are being followed – by Grimes!’
‘Good God! Where is he?’
‘Parked about thirty yards ahead. I think he must know we’ve taken the statue. What do we do?’
‘Well, there are various alternatives.’ Hector was now wide awake. ‘First, I could go and talk to him. Secondly, we could call the police – but Her Grace didn’t want the police involved, and also we might not get the reward if we do – and third, and I think this is my preferred choice, we could try and give him the slip. We’ll drive off in the direction of Cromer. It’s a good straight road out of town. We’ll endeavour to outpace him and turn down a side road. I’ll drive now – I’d love to have a pee. A side road would be ideal.’
So Hector took over the wheel and drove off slowly, noticing that the Land Rover started off too, and followed them at a discreet distance. Once they were out of the town the road was very good and Hector was soon up to 80 mph in spite of the weight of the statue in the boot. Grimes soon dropped out of sight behind. Very soon Hector turned off to the left and drove down a lane for about a hundred yards, then stopped, turned off the engine and the lights, got out and relieved himself by the hedge in the dark. All was quiet as he returned.
‘I think that’s given him the slip,’ said Hector complacently. ‘I don’t know the lanes around here so I think it best if we turn back and rejoin the main road. Hopefully, he will be tearing after us towards Cromer, trying to catch us up.’
Hector turned the Rolls around in a field gateway with some difficulty and made his way back to the main road, where he turned left. The road was completely clear.
Lucasta felt very nervous. The sight of Grimes’ face behind the wheel of the Land Rover had not been pleasant.
‘I do hope he doesn’t turn round and come back,’ she said. ‘He could have a gun.’
‘A bit far-fetched, I think,’ said Hector. ‘Anyhow, let’s deal with that as and when it happens. I’m enjoying this. Much better than legal practice.’
Lucasta felt she would much rather be safely in bed in her flat. She started to cry. Hector merely passed her a handkerchief.
Soon the headlights flashed on a sign by the side of the road – ‘Welcome to Cromer: Gem of the Norfolk Coast’. The streets were totally deserted.
‘There’s a one-way system here, I think. We have to go round to the left.’
No sooner had Hector said this than they both saw a Land Rover hurtling towards them from the part of the one-way system they could not enter.
‘He’s going to try and ram us,’ shouted Hector. ‘He must be mad or drunk.’
As they swung left into the one-way system, the Land Rover tried to come alongside them on their right. The road was narrow. Hector just accelerated as hard as he could. There was a slight thump as the left-hand front of the Land Rover hit the right-hand rear of the Rolls. For a moment Hector thought he was losing control as the Rolls swung to the left, but he turned the steering wheel to the left and righted the car. The Land Rover, totally off course, went straight into a lamp post.
Lucasta found herself screaming. Her legs were shaking and she felt sick.
‘We must stop and see if he’s all right,’ she said. ‘Hector, you must.’
Hector looked over his shoulder at the next turn but drove on.
‘He deserved it,’ he said. ‘If we stop now we shall never get the statue back in time as the Duchess has commissioned us to do.’
‘But he may be dead.’
‘Well, if he is, there is nothing we can do about it.’
Lucasta lay back and groaned.
‘This is terrible,’ she said. ‘I hate it.’
‘Well, you always said you hated Grimes. We’ve got the statue and he’s got his comeuppance. I look forward to reading in the Cromer Gazette, if there is such a thing, the headlines: “Drunk publican crashes Land Rover into lamppost”.’
Lucasta just glared at him. ‘You think it’s funny, don’t you?’
‘No, I think it’s part of the job we were asked to do. Tell you what, if it will cheer you up, you’ve been very brave and helpful and I’ll share the reward with you fifty-fifty.’
Lucasta fell silent as they made their way along the coast road. After some time, as they were passing through Cley-next-the-Sea, she asked, ‘How much is it?’
‘Two thousand.’
‘And I’m to get a thousand?’
‘That’s it.’
‘I do hope he’s not seriously injured,’ she said, and went to sleep.
2
December 1969
For Lucasta, returning to the piles of dusty books was a great anti-climax. Although she’d been frightened by the car chase, it had been like the end of a romantic film when they delivered the statue to the Duchess. She had been so grateful to them both as she shook hands with an unshaven Hector and hugged and kissed Lucasta. Hector had given Lucasta a cheque for half the reward, which she left in her handbag for a week and kept looking at as though she couldn’t believe it. She felt she’d achieved something of merit at last. She’d always been envious of her younger and more beautiful sister Veronica, who had won all the prizes at school, gone to Cambridge, and was now doing a doctorate, while all Lucasta herself had done had been to make various false starts. First, sh
e’d tried a course at an art college until she decided that she was never going to be a good artist. Then she did a degree in the history of art, but that didn’t seem to qualify her for any particular job, so she’d then taken a course to qualify as a librarian. Being a librarian was all right, but not exactly exciting. She’d worked in a university departmental library, but after a year had had to give in her notice because she couldn’t stand her boss. Fortunately, the next day she met Duncan. He seemed to be the answer. He had a good job in property development and was eager that they should get married quickly and have a family. She knew Duncan was not perfect – not only was he short, but he was round and chubby – but he was always happy and cheerful. Now she was missing him badly as she sorted through the dusty books. He’d promised to phone her twice a week, but he’d only rung once so far and they’d been cut off after about a minute. He’d said she couldn’t contact him because he would be moving around and might have to go to the New Territories.
And Hector seemed to be staying away from her. The only person she saw while she worked on the books was Jolly, who kept her supplied with dusters. He annoyed her. He crept about, was obsequious, but seemed somehow to resent her presence in the office, and he was always dressed in the same pinstriped trousers with a shiny black jacket.
But eventually she had an excuse to speak to Hector on the intercom.
‘Hector? Lucasta here. The first lot of books is now ready to be sold,’ she said brightly. ‘Would you like to come and look at them?’
